Page 19 of Devil's Bride

Sex with Alexei was way better than I had imagined, way more sensual and passionate than anything I’ve ever felt before. My clit starts to throb just remembering it.

But I need to remind myself it was just sex, nothing more. I’m attracted to him, but that’s a natural reaction. I can’t allow myself to feel anything more than lust for a man like him. He’s father’s enemy—my enemy. Marriage and sex don’t change anything.

Huffing out a sigh, I drag myself to the bathroom for a quick shower and to brush my teeth. I find sweatpants in the closet and pair it with an oversized shirt before I go downstairs.

The aroma of freshly made pancakes hits my nose as I climb down the stairs and make my way to the kitchen. Nina lifts her head when I enter and smiles at me. “You’re awake.” Her eyes dart to my neck and she flashes a knowing smile at me.

I’m suddenly embarrassed she knows I had sex with Alexei last night. I bite my lip and lower my gaze to the bowl of fruit on the countertop. Of course, Alexei and I got married yesterday, but intimacy is just something I didn’t expect to enjoy as much as I did.

I wonder if I was loud? I know I was. Fucking embarrassing.

“What are you making?” I ask. I know what she’s making, I could smell it from my room, but I’d ask any question to avoid the awkwardness between us.

“Pancakes. Hungry?”

I nestle on a stool by the kitchen island and rub my stomach. “I’m starving.”

I used up too much energy last night. I could eat a whole horse right now and still be hungry.

Nina passes me a plate of pancakes, topped with strawberry. She pushes a jar of honey to me along with a glass of milk. “Tell me if you need more.”

I nod, licking my lips as I drizzle honey on the pancakes before I start eating. I moan when flavor of the first bite hits my tongue. It tastes good, with just the right amount of milk and sugar. “It’s delicious,” I say after my second bite.

“If you’re groaning over a pancake, I can imagine how you’d react to one of my soups,” she brags, flipping a pancake in the pan.

“Are you bragging about your cooking skills ?” Most of the maids and chefs at my father’s mansion are humble. It’s the first time I’m hearing anyone boast about their cooking.

She shoots an inquisitive glare in my direction. “Is something wrong with me bragging?”

I shrug, popping a grape into my mouth. “No, I’m just not used to it. My mother taught me never to do that.”

“We’re Russians,” she says. “It’s in our nature to gloat.”

I don’t argue because I think she’s right. My father is the same way. My mother is Italian, and she grew up in a family where she had to learn to be docile. Something about that making a woman virtuous.

Virtuous woman be damned, I would rather be wild.

I swallow down the grape with a gulp of milk. “So, Nina, how long have you been working for Alexei?”

“Since he was born,” she answers. Her tone is indifferent.

“Like since he was a baby?” I need to be sure I heard her right.

She confirms it with a nod. “Maybe before that. I know the night he was conceived, his parents—”

I raise my hand to stop her. My mind is a mess, I’m well aware of what she was about to say. I know because we had a nanny like that, and she always told me how my parents kissed each other from the night they made me. It always grossed me out. I’ll throw up if I have to listen to a story of Alexei’s parents doing the same.

A cocky grin curves the side of her mouth. “What? Not so curious now?”

“That’s not what I’m curious about,” I admit. “Alexei is my husband now, I need to know more about him. We’re pretty much strangers.”

“You can just ask him.”

I roll my eyes. “Right, he’s totally the kind of guy who would spend hours telling me stories about his life.”

Nina’s brow knits to show she’s not amused by my sarcasm. “What do you want to know, child?”

I smile. “Don’t regret asking.”

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